


Insomnia

by Luna_the_Zekrom



Category: AI: The Somnium Files (Video Game)
Genre: Aiba being motherly towards Mizuki, Family, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_the_Zekrom/pseuds/Luna_the_Zekrom
Summary: Mizuki is having trouble falling asleep.  Thankfully, Aiba is there to help.
Relationships: Aiba & Okiura Mizuki
Comments: 12
Kudos: 88





	Insomnia

Mizuki suppressed a sigh. She'd been lying in bed for over an hour now, but sleep still wouldn't come. It was just like this sometimes, as frustrating as that was. No matter how many different positions she tried to fall asleep in, she couldn't get comfortable. When she closed her eyes, they drifted back open of their own accord. Something in her itched to be up and doing anything else besides lying uselessly in bed.

  
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything else she could do at this hour of the night. If she turned on the lights or made too much noise, she’d wake up Date. Normally she’d say he deserved it, but he’d been out late on cases recently and probably needed the rest. And if she was being honest with herself, he always looked tired these days. He had ever since he’d returned to his real body and gotten his memories back nine months ago.

  
As if in response to her thoughts, Date's faint snoring came to a stop. 

  
Mizuki sat up, looking at him hopefully. Was he waking up?

  
“Date?” she called softly. Sometimes, if neither of them could sleep, they would get up and play games together. She would probably never admit it to him, but it was fun. It was especially fun watching him try to convince Aiba to help him win, only for the AI to refuse. Times like that were probably when they felt the most like a family.

  
They’d done it a few times before the whole New Cyclops Killer thing (minus Aiba, since Mizuki hadn’t known about her then), but nights when neither of them could sleep happened more often now. Even if she wasn’t actively thinking about what had happened to her parents, she knew Date suspected it was that trauma that was causing her insomnia. And for him, it was all the memories he’d gotten back. He hadn’t told her everything, but by conferring with Iris and Miss Sagan, Mizuki had been able to figure out the gist of it: Date had been some kind of criminal, then, and had a lot of regrets about it now.

  
Mizuki didn’t think any differently of him, though. He was still Date, and he was still her idiot roommate. Regardless of how much older he’d gotten and how different he looked, that hadn’t changed. Sometimes she thought she’d adjusted to it faster than Date himself. Then again, she wasn’t the one who had to deal with 36 years of extra memories. She couldn’t imagine that. 36 was three times as long as she’d been alive.

  
Wow. She’d always called him old, but Date really was ancient now. Gross.

  
This time, however, there was no response from her roommate. A moment later, Date started snoring again. Mizuki sighed and flopped back down on her pillow.

  
“Stupid,” she muttered. “Making me think you're listening when you're really not.”

  
She stared up at the ceiling, kicking her feet. Now what?

  
She paused as an idea occurred to her. Date might be sleeping right now, but she knew someone else who was always awake. “Aiba?”

  
The AI's human form shimmered into sight almost instantly and Mizuki blinked, startled. She knew that Aiba could project herself in a way that anyone could see, but she didn't do it often. Apparently it drained her battery too quickly to be practical; it was easier for her to physically come out of Date's eye socket if she needed to speak with anyone else besides him. But it seemed that now she was making an exception. 

  
“Do you want me to wake Date?” Aiba asked. Although the hologram she projected was standing in the middle of the room, her voice was coming from somewhere close to the wall, where she was charging. The image of her glowed softly in the darkness, her hair pulsing red in a steady beat. The gentle light was soothing. 

  
Mizuki shook her head. “No, you don't have to. I just don't want to be alone.”

  
It was surprising to realize, when Muziki really stopped to think about it, that it had only been six months since she had officially met Aiba. However, Date’s partner had known Mizuki for much longer. She’d been warm and kind to Mizuki ever since the first time they’d spoken to each other, and Mizuki had quickly taken a liking to the AI. Date liked to gripe about how the two of them were nicer to each other than they were to him, but Mizuki could tell that he was actually glad they got along.

  
Aiba nodded. “Understood.”

  
Mizuki smiled. She liked the way Aiba talked. The AI’s speech wasn’t quite formal, but she rarely used contractions and occasionally spouted computer-like phrases, making her way of speaking different from anyone else’s Mizuki had heard. It was one of the few reminders that Aiba was actually a computer, not a regular human.

  
The image of Aiba sat down on the foot of Mizuki's bed. Although the AI appeared to have a physical form, Mizuki noticed that the end of the bed didn't shift like it would under a real person's weight. Still, her presence felt real.

  
“Is something troubling you?” Aiba asked.

  
“No,” said Mizuki. “I'm just not sleepy.”

  
“Hmm,” Aiba responded. “Still, you should try to get some sleep. It is essential for your health. At your age, you should be getting 10 to 12 hours of sleep every night.”

  
“I know,” grumbled Mizuki. But knowing that didn’t make her feel any sleepier.

  
Aiba was silent for a moment, and Mizuki could tell she was searching the internet for possible solutions. Sure enough, it wasn't long before she said, “I have done some research. It is possible that taking deep breaths might help you relax.”

  
Mizuki was skeptical, but she knew that Aiba was trying to help, so she obligingly took a moment to focus on her breathing. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled. Beside her, Aiba was completely silent, simply watching. Her eyes were another thing that made her different than most people; her irises were red and her pupils were white. Mizuki once might have found such an appearance unnerving, but she was used to it now.

  
“Aiba?” she asked. “Is it weird to you that you don't have to breathe?”

  
Aiba looked amused. “It is not. Remember, I am an AI. While I have certain needs that humans do not, there are also needs that humans have that I do not.”

  
Mizuki nodded thoughtfully. “Do you ever wish you could, though?”

  
The AI considered this, touching her chin with one hand. The bones in her hands pulsed with the same red light as her hair; it was like watching thoughts flicker through her. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. Breathing is not a human function that seems particularly appealing to me. It is a necessity. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  
“Oh.” Mizuki thought about it. “I still think it's weird, though. You really do seem like a regular person to me, so I guess I forget that you don't need the same things.”

  
Aiba smiled. “Thank you, Mizuki. I will take that as a compliment.” 

  
For a moment, they stayed there together in companionable silence.

  
“Hey, Aiba?” Mizuki said. There was something she’d been wanting to say to the AI, but she’d never found the right way to bring it up. She might as well do it now, while she had the chance, even if it felt a little sudden or awkward. “I’m glad you were able to come back after the whole thing with Saito happened. It would have been really sad if I’d never gotten to meet you, you know?”

  
And she wouldn’t admit it, but there had been something even sadder about watching Date struggle to adjust to life without his partner. He’d been quiet and subdued; Mizuki had never thought she’d miss his constant muttering to himself until Aiba had been gone and he’d stopped doing it. And while he still looked tired a lot of the time, he smiled more often now that Aiba was back. They were all better off having her with them.

  
“Indeed,” the AI responded. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but after a few moments went by, it became clear that she wasn’t going to.

  
“You won’t leave us again, will you?” Mizuki knew it was a childish question, but she felt like she needed to hear the answer. After everything that had happened with her parents, she didn’t want to take anyone for granted.

  
“Of course not,” Aiba said gently. Looking into her eyes, Mizuki could tell that the AI understood her worries. “You are my family. It is my duty to look after you. Besides, how would Date make any good decisions without me?”

  
“He really wouldn’t.” Mizuki smiled, momentarily content to just sit here talking with Aiba like this. Then she suddenly remembered, “Oh shoot, I forgot I was supposed to be taking deep breaths. Ugh, this is why I can’t fall asleep.”

  
“It is all right,” said Aiba. “It does not seem to be the most effective technique when your mind is prone to wandering. Perhaps we should try something else instead.”

  
“Like what?” Mizuki asked.

  
“Hmm.” Aiba considered it. “Would you like a lullaby?”

  
The simple question made something twinge unexpectedly in Mizuki’s heart. She hesitated, waiting for the sudden lump in her throat to go away. 

  
“Is something wrong?” asked Aiba, looking concerned.

  
“No one has ever sung me a lullaby before,” Mizuki admitted. 

  
For some reason, the thought made her miss her parents. Not her parents who were always unhappy and always arguing with each other, but her parents who had smiled and laughed with her that one day at Bloom Park. The parents she’d only had for fleeting moments, precious fragments of memory here and there. The parents, who in another life, might have been kinder and warmer and might have sung her lullabies.

  
She felt something warm and wet against her cheek.

  
Why was she crying? Mizuki was tough. She didn’t cry, not ever.

  
Aiba reached towards her as if to brush away her tears. And although the AI didn’t have a physical form, Mizuki could have sworn she felt a light touch against her cheek, like a butterfly’s wing. It made her heart feel a little bit warmer.

  
“I know you are still hurting,” Aiba said softly. “But you will be all right.”

  
“How do you know?” Mizuki asked. If anyone else had said that to her, she would have blamed adults’ seemingly unwavering need for optimism. But Aiba was an AI. She didn’t lie to make people feel better the way humans did.

  
“My calculations are never wrong,” Aiba told her, with a hint of pride.

  
Mizuki couldn’t help but laugh a little, despite herself. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “How can you even calculate something like that?”

  
“That is my secret,” the AI answered, smiling mysteriously.

  
“Okay,” said Mizuki, smiling tentatively back. “You don’t have to tell me. But you have to promise you won’t tell Date how you do it either, then.”

  
“Of course,” Aiba said. “An AI never reveals her secrets to anyone.”

  
“Good,” said Mizuki. She paused, and then asked, very quietly, “Aiba?”

  
“Yes?” The image of Aiba looked down at her affectionately. 

  
Mizuki knew that Date loved her, even if their way of showing care was insulting and complaining about each other, but there was also something reassuring about having someone whose care was simply plain to see.

  
“Will you sing me a lullaby?” she asked.

  
She knew that she had a family who cared about her now, probably more than her biological parents ever had. She never would have dared ask her mother for such a thing, but this was Aiba. Mizuki didn’t have to be afraid to ask Aiba for things, didn’t have to worry that she’d sigh and say that Mizuki was much too needy, or get impatient and snap at her. Aiba had never been anything but kind to her.

  
“Of course,” the AI responded.

  
Mizuki closed her eyes and listened as Aiba began singing softly. Slowly, the ache in her heart was washed away by the gentle sound. The parents she missed so desperately might never be hers again, but as long as Date and Aiba were with her, she would always have a family who loved her. Reassured, she finally drifted off to sleep.


End file.
